John Stupart.com

The bus ride from Maputo was 10 hours, including a delightful 2 hour interlude at the Malelane border post where literally thousands of human traffic attempted to get stamps in their passports. What do you my faithful readership care? Not a whit I’d wager. But for me it means I am tired.

I shall post more later on in the week, including pictures when I find the bloody cable for my camera which has so far eluded me. Suffice to say the holidays were quite a grand excursion and I’m glad for them! Christmas with the family in chilled-out Durban and catching up with old friends was great, and so too was backpacking around Mozambique with my brother and entourage.

The latter was a very interesting experience, but in no way or shape or form relaxing. Talking with some Finnish folks on the bus back into SA they nailed it on the head that in Mozambique one is more concerned with surviving the experience more than having a ‘holiday’. It’s a large swath of typical African rural grass villages interspersed with the decaying remnants of a decades-long abandoned colony of Portugal. Indeed, upon entering the smelly, smoggy haze of Johannesburg this afternoon I was just glad to see houses with a relatively fresh coat of paint. Mozambique had good, great, mediocre and downright miserable experiences, on which I shall detail later on (again with pictures.) I learned some things and corrected others, but overall I come back from it a better person, which is ultimately all that really matters to me.

Much like the thought of returning to Sarufutsu after a particularly long trip, I always find that I look ever-so forward to getting home and being able to dwell in my own space. I’m a hermit like that; content to venture on temporary forays into the wilderness so long as I know I’m coming back ‘home’.

But for now, I am off to wash some very filthy clothes, eat some overdue-Christmas treats and go to fucking bed!